Club High Castle Pre-Pandemic

This writing short is for my fellow females. Enjoy! :) 2116  The aerial tram zipped past columns of sky gardens, their iridescent domes glimmering in the sunlight as we sped away. I winced when a sudden wave of pain stung my abdomen. I bit my lower lip, fighting off the urge to curl into the fetal position. A perpetual anger tingled my senses, burning every last ounce of blood within me. I closed my eyes and thought of 2016. Here I was exactly one hundred years in the future—that is another story in itself. It won't be long, I told myself. And I'll never have to suffer through the monthly b.s. that comes with being female ever again . There was no way they didn't have remedies that actually worked. Hell, maybe they even had some sort of cure for the entire business—maybe one simple operation, and my body would release its damned eggs some other way. At that thought, I tried to smile, but pain exploded in my abdomen as the tram slowed to a stop. I looked up. T

Special character guest, RIA Agent John Smith, talks about his latest assignment. Being a secret agent is not all glam, guns, and action. Exhibit G.305: Clyde Butterworth I don't know why I always get tossed the weird, odd-ball missions. Maybe Director Rollins hates me, I don't know. Last week I had to track down a lunatic wearing a baseball cap wrapped in foil. Yes. I had to follow this weirdo all over town (and no, he couldn't make it easy for me and live in the city). This nutjob lived in a dumpster by the A.D. railroad tracks of a small town up in the mountains. What did I learn? Clyde Butterworth spent his afternoons singing incoherent songs with a voice that made you want to smack your own face with a frying pan. When he wasn't singing, he was glued to a dented flask of empire-knows-what or collecting pine cones. And so, this “threat” to national security made last week a living hell. Honestly, what unknown atrocity did I commit to get stuck with suc

~ A military story Back in 2003 (gosh, has it really been thirteen years?), I was deployed to South Korea for military games. They packed us into a plane, and off we went. We landed around midnight (naturally, I mean you never arrived at your destination during normal person hours). They bused us to Tent City, and we rushed to form an unspoken assembly line to unload all of our bags. An example of a standard Tent City.  The image is in public domain and can be found here Once the logistics were taken care of, we were assigned tents, and off to bed we went to be at work by 0800 (I honestly don't remember being tired or pissed about not getting enough sleep. Maybe that was because I was 22, and at that age I could live off of Pepsi, candy bars, and 2 hours of sleep). The next morning I was up and ready with the two other gals I'd be working with. We made it to our squadron in time to play war, but this isn't the point of this story. I just had to give you all

This one goes out to all the writers! One of the “joys” of writing is going back to that first draft for an edit, getting a great pace going, and suddenly stumbling upon an "innocent" little note you left yourself. I mean, you're busy writing and blazing through that first draft. An idea pops into your head,  you're stuck on a scene, or you can't figure out how to get to the next one, so you drop a note you'll hate yourself for and move on. I dug out the first draft of The Year is Now (TYIN) and pulled a few from the story I'm editing now (SEN) just for laughs and facepalms. I've added some commentary for humor ;) [ needs moar glue ] SKIP SKIP SKIP ENDING I didn't want to write the scene when I was writing, and I don't feel like writing it now. Thanks, Self. [ skipping because I need to rewrite this chapter. Insert rest of the battle here! ] From TYIN. I'm pretty sure I hated myself when I got to that gem. Writing battles